


daybreak

by lilbabyc



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Reader-Insert, just some cute shit i had in my head sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:29:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22000207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilbabyc/pseuds/lilbabyc
Summary: an insight into the relationship between steve rogers and his lil ray of sunshine.
Relationships: Steve Rogers & Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 85





	daybreak

**Author's Note:**

> i've had this in my head for like a month now and i've finally decided to get back into writing so here you guys go - please be nice to me i'm nervous :)))

Steve learned from a young age not to stare directly at the sun but that was becoming an increasingly difficult task when he has a clingy little ~~everyone seemed little to him~~ ray of sunshine sprawled out in his bed most mornings. She carries a certain wonder about her and he is sure that she must be aware of it to some extent for in his eyes, it is impossible for somebody to entrance and captivate the people around her as much as she does without even knowing it. 

She isn’t perfect - she snores - _loud_ \- and is clumsy and speaks too fast and too loud sometimes. But she can be quiet - like in her refusal to burden him on any of the days when she is feeling more akin to the color of the sky against the New York skyline outside their massive apartment windows than the sunflowers that she insists on keeping on the dining table during the whole year. Or the way she draws in on herself when she’s being heavily criticized, diamond eyes shining in a way that makes his heart freefall to his stomach. The way she can get insecure about her work despite the way people laud it. She is too hard on herself, doesn’t know when to stop even when she is dead on her feet and cries often and quick if she fails to achieve whatever her little fighting heart is set on.

But she is his. Her bright and youthful spirit chose his old and weary one, painting over the tainted black and grey with vibrant yellows and reds and greens and golds using the fine sable brushes that he has tucked away in the lower drawer of his bedside table. Years ago he had come out of the ice, but he had never truly unfrozen until she came and melted him, his own personal sunlight with her arms wrapped around his neck and with him wrapped around her little finger. 

Steve had never considered himself a poet. An artist, yes, but even that was a modest affirmation. But then she came into his life, all breezy skirts and pouty lips and he knew that he would have to find a new way to articulate his feelings because he failed to find a way to express how she made him feel. Like eating cool orange slices outside in the summer, the juice running down your chin but you don’t care because the weather’s hot and you’re in love. Like stepping into a warm department store when it’s snowing, knowing full well that you won’t buy anything but it doesn’t matter because you’re warm and you’re in love. Like laying surrounded by loved ones but your arm is cramping because your cousin has been laying on it for hours, but that’s not important because they’re comfortable and you’re in love.

_In love_. It doesn’t seem like enough to describe what he feels for you, the way that heat blooms in his chest every time you lock eyes or how your smile makes the steady beating of his super soldier heart stutter. Even now, looking down at your sleeping form, he can’t help the boyish smile that grows on his face. His right hand rests on your waist and your head rests right over his heart, the pulsing of it lulling you to sleep the night before. His left hand comes up, thumb gently caressing the bottom lip of your wide-open mouth. 

He can feel the magic buzzing in the air in moments like these, the subtle beauty of it all, the life he thought he would never have. You shift on his chest, throwing a leg over his and then settling. Steve exhales, watching the sunlight stream through the crack in the blinds and reflect off of your bare shoulder that his t-shirt has fallen off of, shrouded in the white cotton of the sheets. You were-

His thought process is interrupted by a loud snore and some quiet muttering before you bury your face deeper into his chest. A deep chuckle vibrates through his chest, causing you to shift some more and a quiet groan to escape your lips. He presses a kiss to your forehead and you half-open your eyes as he looks down at you in a way that you can only describe as reverently. 

“Good mornin’, doll,” he rasps, voice deeper from sleep and it caresses your ears, making you coo. 

“Hi, baby,” you whisper, blinking sleepily up at him, kissing his bare chest right over his heart. “How long have you been up?”

Steve hesitates, contemplating lying for a split second but then he remembers who he’s talking to. He needs not feel embarrassed when you’re around, your accepting nature allowing him to express himself while avoiding judgement. 

“A couple of hours now,” he replies, tracing patterns on your bare shoulder absent-mindedly. He glances over at the clock - _8:44 a.m_ \- and exhales deeply, pushing your head deeper into his chest. You wouldn’t need to be up until around 10, because after that, Tony would surely be up to disrupt your peace with incessant teasing. Today you had offered to help Bruce in the lab with some undisclosed - but _“very safe, I can assure you”_ \- project, but that was supposed to be for early in the afternoon.

“Time really flies when you’re being a creep, huh, old man?” You tease, eyes full of mirth as you stare up at the love of your life.

He smirks, digging his fingers into your sides making you giggle and squirm on top of him. 

“Watch your mouth there, young lady,” he calls you out in his _captain_ voice, making your stomach flutter and your eyes lower in submission. He knows what that voice does to you, how it melts your resolve. His smirk only grows when he realizes how your eyes have dropped and how quiet you’ve become. “Don’t worry, baby, I know you have work to do. I won’t spank you today. You can find a way to thank me later.” 

He follows his last sentence up with a wink and you giggle, always content about how soft he makes you in the morning. Later you may find the time to exhibit your bratty behaviour, but for now, everything was soft and sweet and quiet. You nuzzle your face into his neck and his hands slip down to grip your ass.

“I’m sure I _will_ find a way later, Captain,” you mutter, yawning. His hands start to move in slow, languid circles, as both of you know that you have some time left in your little safe haven bathed in golden light and wrapped up in each other’s body heat. “What are you gonna do today, super soldier?”

He sighs, licking his lips and your eyes can’t help but follow the movement of his pink tongue peeking out between those perfectly pink lips. Instinctively, you bring a hand up to trace their outline, fully appreciating the beauty of the man that you hold captive beneath you.

His pretty blue eyes stare contemplatively at the ceiling and you notice how in this light, they look greener than they do blue. It was as if God himself poured a vat of molten gold into the ocean of his eyes, letting it sit and reflect the sun on this early morning. His cheekbones are pronounced and his jaw is strong, giving his face such a classically beautiful structure. The spun flaxen strands of his golden mane are unruly, but the time that the angels had spent slaving away and spinning it does not go unappreciated. You have a sudden urge to run your fingers through it, but instead your eyes are drawn to his moles and his freckles. They make constellations across his unblemished skin ~~you’re jealous~~ and reassure you that this perfect man that lays beneath you is still indeed human.

“You’re so damn _pretty_ , baby,” you sigh, interrupting whatever response he was about to provide to your question. He smiles up at you and you return it easily, leaning down to place a soft kiss right on top of his lips. He grips your ass slightly tighter pulling you deeper into it. You make a noise of surprise that he quickly swallows, then moving his lips to nip and suck at your neck. Last night was long and he made love to you slowly and lazily, bringing you right to the edge again and again. Keeping up with his elevated libido was a constant but extremely enjoyable workout for you, one that he always found amusing.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he says once he relinquishes your lips from his hold, pecking you one more time. “But I don’t think I’m the pretty one in this relationship.”

He kisses you again before you can protest but then sits up abruptly, taking you with him and making you squeal. Your arms are still wound around his neck while your legs cling desperately onto his waist. His hands still rest on your ass and he wears a bright smile on his face. 

“I don’t know about you, doll,” he starts, walking through your shared apartment towards the kitchen. You’re only wearing his t-shirt - one of the bigger ones ~~because why are his shirts always so small~~ \- and he can’t help but admire how pretty you look in his clothing. He thinks that he wants to keep you like this forever. “But I’m a little hungry.”

You side-eye him at the potential double entendre - the abused flesh between your legs is already screaming in protest. He doesn’t look at you, but continues looking straight ahead with that naughty little fucking smile on his face, the picture of innocence. 

“For food though, sweetheart, I swear it,” he finally cracks, laughing shortly while placing you on the kitchen counter. He deposits another kiss on the tip of your nose, looking at your bratty little pout causing his hand to twitch. He knows that he wouldn’t - can’t spank his best girl before breakfast - and you really are too sore from last night to go again for at least a few more hours. Because, if Steve’s being honest to himself, it never just stops at spanking.

But you’re clingy in the mornings so as soon as he turns to grab a pan from one of the cupboards, you clench your legs tighter around his waist. Turning to you once more, he raises an eyebrow and your pout only intensifies. He doesn’t do anything but kiss it once more before unwrapping your legs from his waist with those _strong big ass motherfucking hands_.

“What you do want for breakfast, babydoll?” He asks, successfully grabbing the pan this time. You chew on your lip, thinking hard. 

“Pancakes?” You question, looking up at him for confirmation. He nods, a smile on his face. 

“Go put on your music or something, baby - we can make them together.”

And that’s how you ended up dancing around the kitchen to one of the songs on your playlist, shaking your ass and singing obnoxiously loud as Steve watched you humorously, flipping a pancake here and a piece of bacon there. Soon, you both have glasses full of juice and about three dozen chocolate chip pancakes, as well as multiple pieces of bacon.

When you shove a piece of pancake into your mouth, Steve catches your eye across the jar of sunflowers on the table, light glinting off of the fork that you’re holding and the white plates adorning the table. He dwarfs his hand in yours and plays idly with your fingers. 

“I love you,” he states definitively, as if he is stating his name and what color the sky is.

A mouth full of pancake, you grin at him. Quickly swallowing, you lean over the table and kiss him soundly on the lips. He tastes like orange juice and maple syrup and _Steve_. 

“I love you too,” you reply, a small smile on your lips. His smile grows until you snort the last word, your own grin spreading.

“Dork.”  
  
  
  
  



End file.
